


Broken

by FeatherQuilt88



Series: The Amber Dragon Anthology [14]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adopted Children, Animals, Canon-Divergent from Everything Else, Cute Kids, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Kindness, Order of the White Lotus, Post-Canon for the Original Series, Priest, Prison, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 10:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30087789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherQuilt88/pseuds/FeatherQuilt88
Summary: Chiko (fancharacter) finds an injured dove-rabbit in the garden. Iroh and Fire Sage Shyu remember times when they were in quite ragged conditions themselves--and how kindness helped them to heal.
Relationships: Aang & Iroh (Avatar), Aang & Shyu (Avatar), Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Original Child Character(s), Iroh & Pakku (Avatar), Iroh & Shyu (Avatar), Shyu (Avatar) & Original Child Character(s)
Series: The Amber Dragon Anthology [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1988473
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> For readers new to my "Amber Dragon" fanfic series (which is post-canon for the original series and canon-divergent from everything else)--in it, Iroh lives in the Fire Nation capital near Zuko, and has also adopted my fancharacter Chiko, an orphan from a former Fire colony.
> 
> Shout-out to Lone_Star_Ranger for helping me with terminology for the sages and their dwelling compound!
> 
> Dove-rabbits are a species I came up with several stories ago just for an adage, and I decided to enlarge upon them here. I would hesitate to say I'm the first fanfic writer who's imagined this hybrid, though--I don't remember coming across it before, but I think it's safe to say any ATLA fan can play around with animal combos, and might randomly come up with the same ones eventually!

_Plip, plop._ The raindrops fall quietly off the window-rim, after a night of fierce storming. Chiko watches them from the Amber Dragon’s seating-room. Like any proper Firefolk, she smiles to welcome the sunrays, multiplied into tiny beads of light within each droplet.

Iroh smiles too. He is thankful this thunderstorm hit during the night, instead of this morning, so that he and his daughter can keep their appointment to meet a friend. The old Firebender takes a basket of sweets on one arm, and Chiko on the other, and sashays out of the room. The sun is so irresistible this morning, he can’t help but break out into song.

_Little sundrop, come on by—_

_Brighten up this bleak old sky!_

Chiko knows this song well—it is one of her favorites. Iroh’s little girl cheerfully picks up the tune, belting out the second verse as she hops through puddles on the cobbled roads.

_Ripen out the sheaves of rice,_

_Then touch our cheeks, so warm and nice!_

Iroh just chuckles, as Chiko’s tiny sandals get dampened—they will dry out cleanly. Though he does wrinkle his big pug nose, when a few of her splashes land on his robe-hem. Nevertheless, he is in far too pleasant a mood to scold.

The elderly noble and the little girl make their way to the Fire Sages’ quarter of the city, a few blocks north of their home Earthtown neighborhood. They are still singing their little tune when they arrive at their friend’s monastery-house, Iroh swinging his hips and knocking the door to its rhythm.

An amiable face, perhaps two or three years Iroh’s junior, greets them. “Oh! Hello, old prince!”

Iroh chuckles at the priest’s greeting—a formal title wrapped into an informal tone. That is Shyu’s way. Ever since the two first met, they have gotten along famously. And Iroh is thankful that such a beneficent soul as Shyu has been assigned to the temple nearest their home. He would much rather Chiko listen to Shyu’s sermons, than to those of the corrupt sages he remembers from his father’s reign, and Ozai’s. (If necessary, he would take his adoptive child to a temple on the whole other end of the city, or out of the Caldera itself, to avoid their ideologies touching her—thankfully, he doesn’t have to.)

“We brought you some sweet-buns, Sa’shu!” Chiko bustles forward, grabbing Iroh’s picnic-basket and presenting it to Shyu with a gap-toothed smile. (The elderly prince tried to teach his daughter to pronounce Shyu’s name correctly, the first time—but the good-humored Fire Sage had thought her form of address for him was adorable, and insisted she keep it. “Fire Sage Shyu” could be a bit of a tongue-twister to a seven-year-old, after all.)

The sage lifts both his hands, pretending to be surprised. “Oh, why _thank you,_ little Princess Chiko!” She darts under the table, giggling, while the two men visit.

Iroh enjoys coming to Shyu’s monastery to discuss spiritual philosophy. Chiko enjoys coming to play in the garden. All of the Fire Sages’ (and their families’, those that have them) cabins are arranged in a square around a central courtyard—a beautiful little green retreat with a small shrine in the middle, for their personal use. The sages care for many shrines and public gardens throughout Capital City—but this one is their very own, usually only seen by them and their visitors.

Perhaps its secrecy is what makes it so captivating to the little girl. She runs to bury her nose in the mint and azaleas (laughing as the latter tickle her with their petals, even if they don’t have much scent). Then, she sits back down on the wooden porch-slats outside Shyu’s sliding door, to listen to the gentle drip of the mossy water-basin. And to watch the dove-rabbits, pecking at seeds left out for them around the shrine. They are considered sacred animals—and Iroh and Chiko are proud for their friend, that they seem to want to nest in the eaves of Shyu’s cabin, even more than any other.

The old prince and the old sage have just settled into their discussion, about just _why_ people are eager to know how many spirits can dance on the lid of a teapot. (“I should think it much more important to know what _kind_ of tea they would like!” Iroh declares, he and Shyu munching companionably on the sweet-buns.) They are suddenly interrupted, by a heartrending wail.

“Aaaaahhhh!! Bapa, Bapa! Sa’shu, come quick!” Chiko comes tumbling back into the house, tripping over her pink kimono. She tugs immediately at the hem of Shyu’s red one, pointing towards the sliding door.

“Slow down, sweetheart! What is it?” Iroh rises quickly from his seat, his own green robe-edge flapping behind him, almost as if he is a very chubby and concerned luna moth.

“Dove-bunny’s hurtinthegarden!” Chiko cries breathlessly, tears beginning to poke in her amber eyes. She never stops pointing her own chubby hand towards the door, shaking it for emphasis.

The two men follow her, and there they see it—a pitiful little ball, struggling on the ground. This dove-rabbit’s fur is matted, and its feathers stuck up at odd angles, and notched in places. It clearly was exposed to the storm last night—and soon, it is apparent why.

“…Her wing is broken,” Chiko peeps, her little face screwing up in sympathy.

Shyu’s face is somber too, drooping over his gray-brown beard. He leans forward, inspecting this new little visitor. “Yes…” he agrees, “but it’s an old injury. See? Her wing has grown back crooked. If it were a fresh break, she wouldn’t be moving it around like that—it would hurt too much.” The sage straightens up, still sadly, explaining to Chiko. “This little one is flight-lame—that must be why she couldn’t make it to the safety of the eaves last night, during the storm.”

They are interrupted by a loud sniff. “T-the poor little creature!” Iroh places his big hand over his heart.

Shyu manages a smile at this, at least—their former conquering general, the Dragon of the West, now grown so tender. But he is moved at the dove-rabbit’s plight too, and is already on his way back inside to get something.

Chiko calls back to the priest, almost crying. “Can’t we help th’ little bunny, Sa’shu??” She sounds as concerned as Zuko (her big-brother-in-all-but-blood) does, when addressing a great hurt amongst the citizenry.

“Of _course_ we can,” Shyu lets the little princess know compassionately, answering over his shoulder. “That is just what we are doing. Come on, Iroh—give me a hand with this box.”

The old prince follows the sage obediently, and puts the sweet dumplings on a plate in the kitchen. Soon he and Shyu are running back out to the porch—Iroh carrying the wooden steamer-box, and Shyu carrying the cloth that had been packed in with the treats, flapping between his arms.

Chiko has already gotten her sandals in the clover, approaching the small animal. “C-c’n I pick it up?” She knows her Bapa has taught her not to handle wild animals—but she so wants to take the hurting little soul in her arms, just like Iroh so often does to comfort her.

Shyu scoots near her, his tone still very understanding. “Our dove-rabbits are fairly tame—they know that we feed them, and do not fly away when we approach. But they are not used to being touched outright. Let’s try to lift this little one up with a towel instead, so as not to spook it.” He suits his actions to his words, easing the white cloth under the animal very gingerly. It flinches a bit, its ragged feathers flapping—but then it rolls over into the towel, without much further struggling. Iroh holds the dumpling-box steady, to make a bed for the little creature. Shyu deposits it there, handling the edges of the cloth and then easing them down.

Within minutes, the trio has the dove-bunny inside, its box nestled on the tea-table. They all take turns stroking the animal gently with a damp towel, cleaning off its muddy fur and feathers—straightening them back into place, making it more comfortable. Then Chiko grabs one of the sweet-buns they had brought for Shyu, and starts crumbling it up for their new friend. The dove-rabbit stretches its little neck and falls upon the pieces hungrily, tiny bits of dumpling and honey-date filling disappearing under its fuzzy lips.

Chiko watches it with concern, her amber eyes still creased. “Li’l bunny’s so thin, and she’s missin’ feathers,” she peeps sadly, moving her chubby hand as if wanting to finally try petting the animal’s head. “Will she get better, Bapa?”

Iroh and Shyu share a look, smiling softly at each other. “Of _course_ she will!” they then turn to the little girl, answering in unison. This is, after all, something they know from experience.

_~Last Summer, After Sozin’s Comet~_

Zuko was in his royal study, signing several new treaties, just days after assuming the throne. Iroh was stacking finished papers at his side, keeping his nephew company with tea and advice.

Then Aang walked in, tiptoeing through the air (literally), almost as if apologetic for disturbing them. “Zuko? I-I know you’re busy,” the young Avatar began, almost in a whisper; “but I… wondered if you could help me find someone.”

Zuko had almost called his butler, Shur, to guide Aang around the palace, while he finished this treaty. But then Aang explained that wasn’t what he meant.

He was looking for a friend… an ally… someone who had made a very noble sacrifice to aid him. Someone he hadn’t had much time to think about, in the past few months, with the war and the comet… but now that it was over, he had remembered. His big gray eyes almost welled with tears. “I don’t even know if he survived… but if he did, I would… I would like to help him.”

Iroh smiled softly, rubbing Zuko’s shoulder while addressing the little monk. “Well, that is just what we are doing, Aang. Releasing prisoners who aided the Avatar is one of my nephew’s top priorities for these first few months.”

Aang cracked a small, hopeful smile, still trying not to impose. “But I’d… I’d really like to find him _now._ He stuck his neck out for _me_ ….”

Zuko smiled up from his papers, too, tiredly but compassionately. “Of course you do, Aang.” One hand drifted reflexively back to his topknot—the balance of the crown was still unfamiliar, and he kept needing to readjust it. “This Fire Sage—what was his name?” (Zuko remembered, with a pang, that he had been there at the temple on Crescent Island, during the incident of which Aang spoke—but he could not recall any names. Only the blast of light, when Avatar Roku had manifested from the chamber doors. And, vaguely, that the other Fire Sages had been angry at one of their number.)

“Shyu.” _Aang remembered like it was yesterday._

“Shyu…” Zuko wrinkled his brow, smoothing the treaty-paper at the top of his desk absently. “I haven’t run across that name in any report yet. But if he is still alive, I’ll pardon him for you in a heartbeat, Aang.” The young monarch smiled tiredly but kindly over his shoulder again, before the young Avatar could even reply. “Uncle—go with Aang to the record-house, and see if you can track down this sage. It should go without saying that the Avatar has my permission to get any file he needs… but, it can’t hurt to have the Dragon of the West there with him as well.”

Iroh chuckled and patted Zuko’s shoulder again in reply. Taking his cup of tea, he swished gracefully out of the desk area, and took Aang by the shoulder instead. “Come on, Aang—let’s go find your friend.”

***

The little Avatar and the old Dragon made their way to the palace complex’s sprawling record-building (made of fireproof stone, but carved quite ornately). Aang stepped teasingly on Iroh’s foot, as Iroh, equally-teasingly, flirted with the woman at the desk. And then they all turned serious, as she pulled down the book of prisoner entries in the last year.

Aang shuddered as the record-lady ran her finger down the thick tome, hoping that when it stopped, it wouldn’t be lying over one of the names covered in an ominous red stamp: _executed._ Iroh’s large hand suddenly engulfed the Avatar’s small one, squeezing it tenderly. _I know what it’s like to have men die for me, too,_ his sad amber eyes almost whispered to Aang, all on their own.

“The Fire Sages of Crescent Island are being held in Capital City prison,” the woman announced, pushing her brown bangs over her hair-ornament, to see clearer. “All still appear to be alive.”

The little monk’s yellow cape shifted visibly over his chest, as he exhaled—both in profound relief, and in surprise at _all_ the sages being there, not just Shyu. _What had HAPPENED there on the island? —What had Commander Zhao DONE?!_ Well, that wasn’t important now—what was important was the ledger the record-woman was handing them, not unkindly, with Shyu’s information.

***

In less than an hour, Aang and Iroh had a new document, with Zuko’s new crest upon it—a royal pardon, for Sage Shyu. He would have gotten one eventually, of course—but the warmhearted little Avatar didn’t want his benefactor to spend even one extra day in prison, that he didn’t already have to. With his nephew’s kind permission, Iroh tagged along too— _he knew the place well, after all,_ he reminded himself wryly.

Though it was not quite the animalistic iron cage Iroh had been put in, Shyu’s cell was still not a pleasant one—its three walls behind the iron-bar door were made of cold, stone bricks. One had a tiny slit of light to the outside world, scarcely wide enough to fit a finger through. _Zuko was already planning to have these conditions changed—but a complete renovation of the prison-tower would take several months, perhaps years._

Nevertheless, those inside had already heard the (for some of them, at least) happy news of Ozai’s fall, and Zuko’s crowning. So perhaps Shyu was not _entirely_ surprised, to hear his cell’s door being unlocked. He _was_ surprised, however, to see the Avatar himself coming through those bars. The old sage nearly fell to his knees. “Avatar Aang—!!”

Shyu was clad in a dirty smock, and his hair and beard were matted and overgrown, just as Iroh’s own had been (though Shyu did have a bit more wispy covering on the top of his head). Iroh had never met the sage himself, but he knew this surely was not the state Aang would had seen him in before. So perhaps it was the gesture, and the tone of the cry, that allowed the little Airbender to recognize him.

“Shyu!!” Aang squeaked, through joyful tears—launching himself on the Fire Sage, before Shyu had the opportunity to complete his bow. Iroh ended up wiping away a tear or two himself, as he watched the young Avatar hugging his would-be martyr so enthusiastically—and Shyu’s face, over Aang’s shoulder, turning from shock to gratitude to unbridled joy itself, as he hugged back.

They swayed back and forth for several seconds. Then, noticing Shyu’s mild confusion at the third figure in the room, Aang explained, “This is my friend Iroh! I—I mean General—I mean, Prince Iroh,” he added, through his still-innocent open grin. _Shyu would probably know him better by his title._

“Your Highness,” Shyu made the Fire Nation salute humbly to his other visitor—fist below palm, waist bent.

Iroh half-bowed friendlily, returning the salute as Shyu’s equal. “There’s no need for that,” he rumbled patiently; “any friend of the Avatar is a friend of mine. And I am sure you are anxious to be rid of this place,” he chuckled—“I sure was!” _Though my manner of exit was a bit more… DRAMATIC than yours,_ he mentally added, swallowing another chuckle.

They took Shyu outside, walking him into the light, at either of his sides. Aang and Iroh neither one would ever forget how Shyu’s brown eyes leaked tears, at the sight of the sun. “It’s so _beautiful!_ ” the old sage practically shook in their arms, weeping unashamedly.

Ever Fire person had a special connection to the sun—benders most of all. And while Shyu had been able to track its rising and setting, through the light in the slit of his cell, that meager window had been too high and too narrow for him to really tell anything else. To see the glowing orb there _freely_ in the sky—blazing proud and majestic over the rooftops and evergreens of Capital City—hemmed in by no stone or border whatsoever in his sight—was a different experience entirely.

Iroh well knew it. The sun had been eclipsed during his escape, of course—and the rest of the day had been spent running, fighting, and hiding by turn, making his way out of the caldera. But that evening, when he had finally been able to rest for a few moments, in a forest some miles outside the city—the sunset had been the most beautifully bittersweet thing he had ever seen.

He was suddenly so lost in thought, he just then noticed Aang at Shyu’s other side. The little Avatar was so choked up, he couldn’t help but hug his benefactor again. “You’ll be able to sit in the sun _all you want,_ Shyu,” he squeezed his side almost protectively. “I’ll make sure Zuko gives you the best rectory in town!”

“His Majesty was wanting your input on _several_ things this morning, actually, Aang,” Iroh put in kindly. “Why don’t you take my place in his study for a couple of hours? And I will take your friend someplace where he can get cleaned up and rested, meanwhile,” he beamed at Shyu.

Shyu smiled back, but timidly—even though Fire Sages were highly respected amongst the citizenry, he was not used to being shown such outright care by royalty. “Prince Iroh, you are being too kind….”

“There is _no such thing_ as too much kindness,” Iroh huffed, almost scoldingly. “And our country has forgotten that far too much in the past hundred years.” Then he brightened again, grinning almost impishly. “—Now then! You’re probably hungry too, aren’t you?”

The Fire Sage grinned back, managing a chuckle of his own. “It _will_ be pleasant to have some regular food again, I freely admit!”

“Excellent!” Iroh rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “After we find you a shower and a new robe, I’ll take you to my favorite restaurant in town! —Or at least, it was three years ago. The last time I set foot in their establishment, was the week before I left with then-Prince Zuko into exile. I’d say their finest teas are long overdue for an inspection….”

Shyu found himself laughing— _really_ laughing—for the first time in several long months, as he wondered if “Official Caldera City Tea Inspector” was somehow part of Iroh’s otherwise-legendary title list.

Thus it was, that a warm friendship was born.

Hospitality was an ancient virtue, revered by all four nations, Iroh had then mused to himself. He knew, of course, what a relief it had been to receive it, after his own harrowing imprisonment….

_~Last Summer, Before Sozin’s Comet~_

Pakku’s ship, ready to deliver him to the relative safety of Earth Kingdom waters, was the most welcome sight Iroh had encountered in many days. The warm water and towels onboard were very nearly as welcome—and the linens, and the scissors, and the fresh clothes of lotus-white and blue.

When he stepped back out on deck, under the stars—topknot on head, beard all trimmed, and blessedly clean—Iroh would have felt a new man, if it weren’t for his nephew. His heart was heavy. _Freeing Ba-Sing-Se was the best service he could think of that he could offer the world, now. Maybe someday… maybe years from now… Zuko would understand. And would remember his uncle’s love (a love that had never stopped, even now)._

Pakku’s normally-gruff visage softened a bit, in a sympathetic smile. “There now, old fellow.” He helped Iroh to his seat.

Iroh did his best to return the smile. _He still had friends, at least. Just like Ming at the prison. Pakku now. All these Water sailors, in fact, who had given him a haven en route to the White Lotus camp, and these simple comforts. When a decade ago, he had been their sworn enemy._ Iroh would be ashamed, to not count his blessings.

Still, when Pakku offered him some of the five-flavor soup from the pot, he refused it. Iroh would never have believed it of himself before—but he seemed to have entirely lost his appetite, these past few months. Tea and sleep were the only pleasures that appealed to him anymore. …Pakku was pouring some out for him now, too, bless him. Iroh blew gingerly on the cup.

“We had to go into town in disguise, looking for you,” the old Water master began. “There were rumors in the marketplace, while we were there.”

Iroh scarcely heard him. Pakku fliddled with his choker-necklace. “…It seems the Fire Lord’s son has run away from home,” he continued, in the same casual, matter-of-fact tone. “Defied his father, and went to join the Avatar.”

The combined look of shock, worry, and elation, in Iroh’s shimmering amber eyes, was a sight to behold.

Pakku slid a saucer towards him—smiling ever so slightly, but kindly, beneath his threadlike mustache. “Careful, Grand Lotus—you almost dropped your cup.”

That night, Iroh ate an entire platter of mammoth-salmon.

_~Present~_

Chiko watches over the dove-rabbit’s box, as it finishes the sweet-bun she has fed it. She touches one finger gingerly, to its furry forehead—and it doesn’t shrink away. She strokes it very, very carefully, and then—oh, how her little amber eyes shine with elation!—it licks her hand.

Iroh’s heart warms to his little girl’s soft giggles. But then, her own face falls—she looks like she might cry, as she realizes something.

“…Will I be able to see th’ little dove-bunny again? Does she have to go?”

Shyu shakes his head gently. “No—her injured wing keeps her from finding food and shelter as easily, out there in the wild. Now that she seems to trust people, I think it would be better for her to stay indoors.” His smile broadens, as he comes to a decision. “You can come see the little dove-bunny all you want, Chiko. _I’ll_ take care of her now—it will be nice to have some company around the place!”

The little princess and the old prince both smile broadly, too, now. Shyu kneels down very gently to Chiko. “But I think you ought to name her,” he whispers sweetly. “You are the one who _found_ this little bunny, after all! And you have done such a good job watching over her.”

Chiko clasps her small hands and looks down at them very seriously, as she has sometimes seen her adoptive father do. Then she looks back up, eyes wide and sincere. “Fortune,” she says, simply. “Because she was lucky.”

Shyu stands back up, his smile broadening even further. “Fortune,” he agrees; “although I am not sure she was so fortunate to get caught out in the storm!”

“No,” Iroh moseys over, his wide face like a sunbeam; “but she is fortunate _now_ , to have so many kind hands caring for her!”

Shyu rubs the little animal’s long, soft ears. It closes its eyes tight with pleasure, as if it is smiling too. “Yes,” the priest remarks; “they say kindness is like a river, winding us all home.”

Iroh rubs his own chin, meanwhile—suddenly thinking of events both past and present. “And we can often spread its ripples between us—one person to another to another,” he adds to the proverb.

Chiko looks from her guardian to their friend and back again, absorbing this lesson. Shyu pets her own head now. “The forces of Heaven are pleased whenever we show kindness, to even the smallest of creatures,” he reinforces. “I am proud of you, Chiko.”

The little princess beams at the praise. Iroh’s silver beard brushes into her brown hair, making her giggle again, as he kisses her forehead. “As am I.”


End file.
